


Cursive Curses

by Asdgafn



Category: Warcraft (2016), World of Warcraft
Genre: It's fucking cute I think., LionTrust, M/M, Mild Cursing, Soulmates, Tumblr Prompt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-19
Updated: 2016-08-19
Packaged: 2018-08-09 17:45:35
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,766
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7811293
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Asdgafn/pseuds/Asdgafn
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>SOULMATE AU WHERE WHEN YOU WRITE SOMETHING ON YOUR SKIN WITH PEN/MARKER/WHATEVER THE HELL YOU WANT, IT WILL SHOW UP ON YOUR SOUL MATES SKIN AS WELL. http://pxstergirl.tumblr.com/post/146330773175/soulmate-au-where-when-you-write-something-on-your<br/>--<br/>Khadgar enjoys coffee every morning, waiting for the artistic works of his soulmate to show up on his hand. Lothar doodles because his class is too boring.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Cursive Curses

**Author's Note:**

> I got this prompt from tumblr. I linked their post in the summary. :) Just a short little drabble I wrote up from random inspiration of the prompt. Enjoy!

The sound of idle people filled the café with soft breathing, slurping, and the rustles of the tired. A fan droned on in the corner, whirring in a broken pattern that hinted it may need replacing soon. Someone burped discreetly and another person sneezed explosively, receiving a half dozen sleepy “bless you”s. People conversed in quiet tones to each other or to their phones. All in all, it was a rather peaceful atmosphere and Khadgar found himself almost nodding off over his morning coffee.

At the last moment before dozing off, his head jerked of its own accord and he reeled back a bit with sudden alertness. He blinked sleepily before a massive yawn stretched his lips in a silent looking scream. He huffed his breath out, dragged a hand through his messy hair, and seized his drink to sip lazily at it. The scent of caramel tickled his nose, enriched by the bold coffee blend he’d picked to accompany the flavour.

His eyes wandered downward to peer at his right hand, left to tap absently at the table. Any moment now and the magic would unfold before his eager gaze. Any moment now and delicate swirls, sharp ridges, and rich colours would bleed free onto his skin. It was always mezmerising to watch the spectacle, and it always started around 9:00 AM every day. The drawings would usually take half an hour before they were completed, every day bringing a new picture for him to admire.

At least until his soul mate washed the lines away. Whomever his soul mate was, they were a spectacular artist. His hand was still blank for the time being, so Khadgar’s gaze wandered off to curiously peer around the café, wondering who would be here this morning. One of his evening professors was here, mindlessly munching at a muffin as he scribbled in a black notebook. Behind him he saw a classmate, a girl with a riot of bright red curls, chattering animatedly (but hushedly) into her phone. Her hands waved in the air as she spoke, weaving vague gestures punctuated by occasional snaps.

A slight tickle on his hand alerted him to the beginning of his entertainment for the next while. He jerked his eyes downward in time to catch a flowing green line start swirling boldly across his pale skin. He smiled as leaves started rising from the line that turned quickly into a delicate vine with tiny, carefully etched thorns. Moments later a bright red blossomed periodically across the vine, soft edged roses blooming into existence. Khadgar reached for his drink, sipping it as he watched the creativity come to life.

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 _By the Gods, I’m going insane_. Lothar heaved a noisy sigh as he halfheartedly listened to his professor drone on and on. The man was long winded with a voice that sounded like dust embodied, dry and brooding, lecturing on the already dry topic of History. The class room was stifling with heavy, warm air; leaving sweat to trickle uncomfortably under his clothing, a loose fitting shirt paired with snug, worn jeans. The only solace in this overwhelmingly boring class was his pens.

Lothar absently worried at his bottom lip with his teeth as he painstakingly added petals to a blue peony on his hand. It matched well with the bright red roses he had finished a few minutes ago, weaving in and out of leaves and thorns. He knew he should pay more attention to his class work, but he was already a History nut and knew the era the teacher lectured on. Knights were his passion, he was fascinated by the prospect of sword play and their complex code of honour. But Professor Davidson made knights more boring than, say, quantum physics explained in great detail.

The alarm to signal the end of class blared abruptly in Lothar’s ears, sending his hand jerking and inking a messy scrawl of yellow across his hand, ruining his efforts so easily. He sighed with frustration before he capped his pen, bending down to pack away his supplies. It usually took about 10 minutes before he would feel that slight tickle on his other hand, where a message of appreciation would appear from his soul mate. He liked to think they enjoyed the drawings, they always left an interesting compliment for him.

Lothar hitched his pack on his shoulders as he strolled languidly out of the stuffy room, shoes creaking lightly at his steps. He wandered down the hallway that lead him outside into the rich light of the autumn sun, a brisk breeze immediately whispering over his skin and drying the sweat of the overwarm classroom. He sucked in a breath of the crisp, fresh air, sighing it out contently with a lazy smile as he altered his steps away from his dorm room. A coffee sounded excellent right now and there was a great café down the street.

The light tickle alerted him immediately and he hastily jerked his hand up, eyes glued to the tanned skin as he stilled his steps. Jerkily a cursive writing started to appear, _Great fucking pictures, as always! I loved the yellow, ;)_. Lothar snorted at the cheek of the short comment as he read through the curls of the writing. His soul mate was overfond of his cursing, always leaving the cursive curses inside the compliments. One of these days he’d meet who wrote those words, and the selfish part of him hoped she was pretty. Her handwriting certainly was, and the curses spoke of a strong character, something he liked.

Lothar hurried the rest of the way to the café down the road, running through a few ideas for his drink through his head. He was fond of their Colombian blend with a bit of hazelnut, or the breakfast blend with caramel, or the half caff with mocha. His first stop was to wash his hand though, as he hurried off into the bathroom of the café. A few pumps of cheap soap that smelled like old people and some vigorous scrubbing erased his botched doodling, leaving a clean canvas for his next class in the evening. Philosophy with Professor Smith was always trying his patience and interest.

The café assaulted him with busy sounds when he emerged from the bathroom, the chatter of a dozen or more people, their shuffles and movements creating a busy (but still welcoming) atmosphere. He ambled over to the counter, ordering his drink with a wink and smile that made the cashier blush and stammer, her cheeks turning a pretty pale pink. Lothar couldn’t help but glance at her hands, half wondering if the words on his hand mirrored onto hers. All he caught was a half erased appointment written in neat print as he took his coffee from her. He left a tip in the tip jar nonetheless before turning away and finding himself a seat.

 

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Khadgar nibbled at the end of his pen as he studied his hand for a long moment, eyes narrowed in thought. The intricate drawing had been washed away; replacing it was a scrawl of print that resembled chicken scratch. Mocha; breakfast blend; whipped cream? The message made absolutely no sense, leaving him to ponder at the meaning for a long time. Was it a drink order? It was a strange combination for coffee; the mocha flavour would drown out the delicate tastes of the light coffee blend! What an atrocious idea of a drink.

He snorted with amusement before reaching to take another drink of his coffee, which had long since grown cold. Unfortunately the cup was empty save a few drops that coated his tongue with a bitter residue from the strong coffee he’d ordered. Khadgar set his cup down gently on the table before he reached for his abandoned pen. He inked a few words across his hand, _11:00 dr appointment. Don’t be late again!!._ The thought had come unbidden to him, urging him to hastily write the reminder across his hand, leaving a few scratches through his compliment.

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Lothar glanced down in surprise at the tell-tale tickle in his hand, watching as bold strikes marked out the previous words before an appointment reminder was written below it. He fought a smile before impulsively looking up to look around the café as he took a drink of his coffee. His nose wrinkled with dissatisfaction. The mocha flavour of his new drink combination was too much for the light blend he had picked. His eyes wandered absently over the people scattered about the café, barely pausing at anyone.

A cute guy tucked away in the corner caught his attention though, and he stopped to study the man curiously. It was a teenager for sure, maybe early twenties if he was going to guess generously. The man was scribbling on his hand, tongue poking out from his lips as he wrote. He was very cute, with a mop of messy brown hair that tumbled just barely into his eyes. Lothar licked his lips before worrying at the bottom one, an idea sprouting into his mind. The guy had been writing on his hand..

Lothar hurriedly dug a bright blue pen free from his backpack, immediately uncapping it before he started drawing eagerly on his hand. He started a simple drawing, just some abstract designs that boldly stood out on his tanned skin. After a few moments of drawing, he looked over at the corner again. The man was smiling down at his hand, which he held upright to better look at. Lothar smirked when he caught sight of the bright blue standing out richly against the man’s pale hand.

Much to Khadgar’s delight, he had felt his hand start to tickle. He looked down to see a beautiful blue design start to emerge on his hand, blooming across his skin with a sense of urgency. He lifted his hand to study the slashes and swirls of the abstract drawing, trying to get a better look in the light. Then, before he could study it much longer, right above the drawing a few words slowly bled onto his skin. _I found you_. The precise print was shortly echoed in a deep voice that washed over him warmly.

He looked up with startled surprise to see a grinning man with dark mane of brown hair and brilliant blue eyes, not unlike the blue on his hand. “I found you.” A sense of rightness slotted itself neatly into Khadgar’s heart as he gazed dumbfounded at his soulmate. “Hi. I’m Anduin Lothar, your soulmate.”

“I’m Khadgar..”


End file.
